My dearest Ian,
Today is my birthday. Well, almost. February 17th.
I am about to achieve one of my three major life goals this week. This week….wow…that hasn’t sunk in yet. However, not a single one of those goals included love. I never thought I needed it. I thought it was stupid. Made you weak…and it does really. So I was the man-hating bitch all those years ago.
Since then, you and I don’t talk much. Occasionally, yes. Because you understand me. You always did.
I love you. Even after all these years. On my birthday, all I can think about is how stupid I was to not ask you out all those years ago. Despite everything great in my life, all I can do is “what if”. It was against my rules. My rules for not getting my heart broken – all my rules. They were supposed to protect me. Well, since then, I have gotten my heart broken. Multiple times. But we’ve grown apart. There is no way to right this wrong.
My dearest Ian, even when it is my 100th birthday, I shall forever think of you as the one who got away. If only second chances existed outside of movies…
Patience is a virtue, but not right now it isn’t. If you ever see this, which you won’t, please consider giving me a second chance. I swear I have changed.